The Touch of Abner

by H. A. Cody

As the night wore on, Mrs. Andrews became tired and longed to go home. She said nothing to Jess, however, but the latter was quick to notice the weary expression upon her mother's face, and felt it was her duty to go home with her. But Mrs. Dimock would not listen to the idea of Jess and Belle leaving at such an early hour, and suggested that Mrs. Andrews should go alone.

"We have a most reliable chauffeur," she explained to Jess, "and he will take good care of your mother. We have had him for only a week, but have found him most trustworthy."

It did not take Mrs. Andrews long to get ready, and then she had to wait about half an hour for the car to make its appearance. Mrs. Dimock was surprised and apologized, however, for the delay, explaining that no doubt the man had been asleep. When at length the auto arrived at the front door, Jess accompanied her mother to the car and saw that she was safe on board.

"Don't be too late in coming home," was Mrs. Andrews' parting instruction. "I will leave the back door open. And see that you don't let the cats in."

For about a mile the car sped smoothly on its way. Then it began to gather speed, and at times surged dangerously near the ditch. Never had Mrs. Andrews undergone such an experience. Auto-riding was a novel sensation for her, anyway, and she had often remarked about the reckless driving of so many people. But to be alone in the heart of night, on a rough road, and with an unknown man in charge, was most disturbing. As they sped forward, she clutched the side of the car with grim desperation. Every bump lifted her clear of the seat, and so frequent were the bumps that she was in the air most of the time. She was terrified lest any minute she should be tossed out of the car among the rocks by the side of the road.

Her only hope now lay in the near approach to her home. She accordingly breathed a sigh of relief when the car, bounding around a curve in the road, brought her in sight of the river gleaming silvery white beneath the light of the rising moon.

Such a hope, however, was of short duration, for instead of the car slowing up as it reached the Andrews' house, it increased in speed and dashed by like a whirlwind. With a piercing scream Mrs. Andrews tried to arrest the chauffeur's attention. But in vain. He paid no attention to his agitated passenger, but bounced her more furiously than ever.

Mrs. Andrews was now certain that the driver was either drunk or mad, and her consternation increased. She started to lean forward in an effort to grasp the chauffeur by the shoulder, but no sooner did she attempt to rise than she was flung in a confused heap against the side of the car. And there she remained, clutching desperately at anything on which she could lay her hands. She tried to think, but the wild gyrations of the auto made any calm meditation out of the question. Such was her position, which rendered her helpless and speechless. She was at the mercy of a reckless driver, all the time being borne farther and farther away from home. Uphill and down, and over long stretches of level road the car raced, swaying and bounding more than ever, so the unhappy woman thought.

So far Mrs. Andrews had sustained no serious injury. The bruises she had received upon her hands and body were not noticed, owing to her intense excitement. But when an extra heavy lurch pitched her violently against the side of the car, her nose came into sudden contact with the door. Fear was at once replaced by a burning anger, and with a spring, worthy of a tigress, she was upon the chauffeur in an instant. With a vise-like grip she seized him by the hair and jerked his head back so violently that it was a wonder his neck was not broken. With a startled yell the chauffeur released his right hand from the wheel and caught his assailant by the wrist in a frantic attempt to tear away from the tightening grip, while with the other he endeavored to steer the car. But as his eyes were gazing skyward instead of along the road, this was a most difficult performance.

The outcome of this would have been most disastrous had not the auto just then struck a small newly-made bridge, heaped up with mud. It reared suddenly astern, like a balky mule, and sent Mrs. Andrews forward right on top of the chauffeur. Letting go his hair, she grabbed him about the neck in a last desperate effort to save herself from destruction. Half-choked and bewildered by this unexpected embrace, the chauffeur attempted to keep the car in the middle of the road. He succeeded in reducing the speed, but so excited did he become that his nerve deserted him, with the result that the auto swerved suddenly into a shallow ditch to the right, plowed its way through a mass of tangled bushes, and crashed into a big tree.